


Don't you know that you're supposed to wear black to a funeral?

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Background Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Gen, Missing Scene, Sibling Love, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 19:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19752589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Simon attends his own funeral because his mother realizes that she never buried her dead son that suddenly died in an accident, and Simon has always thought it was polite to pay his respects to the dead.At least the Shadowhunters came wearing black.





	Don't you know that you're supposed to wear black to a funeral?

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't bring me up on how wrong this all is, let's just say Simon hasn't taken the 'cure' yet and Raphael has. I'm not caught up on the show and didn't want to waste my grandparents minmal wifi looking it up. Just enjoy it x I hope you do

Simon stood with his hands in his jacket pockets at the outskirts of the cemetery, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched the funeral take place before him.

A little while away, nestled between many grey headstones with forgotten names and bodies buried beneath the dirt, his family was seated, with all his childhood friends and his mother’s fellow-church goers and they all sat respectfully as the priest spoke about Simon’s life and how it was short but well-lived, filled with love and respect and happiness in a time when that was in short supply and all that rehearsed crap that all priests had to say at funerals.

Beside his mother sat Becky, wearing a vibrant white scarf with embroidered, multi-coloured flowers and a beret placed delicately on her head. She was a stark contrast to the rest of the attendees including their mother, who was wearing more black than Simon even knew she owned.

He knew why his sister was wearing such a different outfit from the rest of the people seated around her because she had told him so beforehand. “You’re not dead,” She had insisted as she adjusted her scarf. “This whole thing is stupid. If I’m going, I’m wearing white, just out of spite.”

“But nobody else knows that I’m alive, Bec,” Simon insisted as he watched her twirl in the mirror. “Just you. There’s no need to go out of your way to prove a point.”

As Becky made her way towards the door, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at her brother. “Yeah, but this is much more fun.”

Now, as Simon watched Becky look increasingly bored, sending looks at him over her shoulder when the onlookers were too invested in the goodbyes of a man they hardly knew existed, he wondered if coming to his own funeral was a really bad idea.

But he could never say no to Becky’s face. Especially the stern one with the raised eyebrow and the pouting lips and the eyes that said she knew exactly what bullshit he was trying to pull-

He heard them before he saw them, all clambering over the gated path and over the hill that led to Simon’s side and he didn’t move when they all stood beside him, Isabelle hooking her arm in his, Jace on his other side with Clary leaning on him, Alec beside his sister, all standing silently as they watched and listened to the procession unfold. Simon didn’t speak, because he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to the uninvited people who had crashed his own funeral, but Jace broke if for him. “Is that your sister?” he sounded offended. “Doesn’t she know that you’re supposed to wear black to a funeral?”

“She’s wearing it in protest,” Simon explained as Isabelle stood up on his toes to kiss Simon’s chin. “She thinks this whole thing is stupid and that they’re wasting time for nothing.”

Jace still looked sceptical. “Uh-huh… and who’s funeral are we attending?”

Simon shrugged. “Mine.”

Snorting, Clary seemed like the only one not to look shocked, and she just reached over and slapped Simon on the shoulder. He reached a hand up and pretended that she’d hurt him. “Of course, that’s the kind of dumb thing you would do. It was a childhood dream of yours to crash your own funeral.”

“What’s a good funeral without any ghosts coming back from the dead and proclaiming their love for someone in the crowd?” Simon joked.

Isabelle tightened her hold on Simon’s arm. “I’d like to hope that it’d be _me_ that you’d proclaimed your undying love for.” She ran her hand down his arm and frowned. “This is nice. When did you buy such a nice suit?”

“Raphael picked it out,” he said. “I would have borrowed one of his but I thought this was something that needed a personal touch. I went to every formal store that I could find and showed him all the options on FaceTime. I don’t even think he liked this one, but he was getting tired with looking at the same suit a thousand times.”

Squinting, Alec looked out towards the crowd of people who were listening intently to the pastor’s speech, all except Becky, who was busy picking at her nails. “Speaking of Raphael…” he began. “Is he the one doing the ceremony?”

“Yeah,” Simon shrugged. “He volunteered. My mum put in an application to the church that he works at and he decided he’d do it free of charge.”

“I didn’t know he was training to be a priest,” Clary sounded both confused and proud. “Good for him.”

Alec still looked confused. “It’s the middle of the day? How is he doing the service without catching himself on fire?”

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle elbowed him in the ribs and Alec looked down at her, irritated. “He’s a mundane now, remember? He can walk in the sunlight.” Alec had an expression on his face that said he really had no idea but was willing to go along with it anyway if it meant his sister stopped hitting him.

“Yeah, here’s what I want to know,” Jace waved his hand at Simon’s feet, stood at the outskirts of the cemetery. “Why aren’t you crashing your own funeral right now?”

Simon shrugged like it was obvious. “Hallowed Ground.” He waved his hand at the obvious line that marked the beginning of the cemetery, the once-gated fence that had been worn down by time and the beginnings of the headstones, chipped and pock-marked, with faded plaques. “If I even set foot near a headstone, I’ll probably be set on fire and turn into a pile of ash. Then mum would have to hold a second funeral.” He joked, but it didn’t come out as light-hearted as he would have liked.

With a mild sound of protest, Isabelle tightened her hold on Simon’s arm, ignoring the fact that he was much colder than any winter night wind, and he took solace in her touch, despite that her warmth bounced off him. “That’s horrible. Why did you even come?”

“Because Becky asked me to,” Simon said. “And I can never say no to my sister.”

Jace was looking at him with a strange sort of look and he wrapped his arms around Clary and pulled her close against his side, and she nestled into his neck. “Do you… do you know where they’re burying you, at least?”

Nodding, Simon rolled his shoulders, just because he’d been standing there for so long, and he hadn’t realized what standing still in the same place for so long would do. He’d been there for hours, much earlier than any of the service goers, just to have a moment to himself. “With my family. Next to my grandfather and my father. My family has claimed a small lot for ourselves, one we’ve had for years, so as we die, we stay with family.”

Alec was looking out towards the funeral with something glinting in his eye, something strange and strong and oh so serious it stung Simon to his core. “How long do you think your sister is going to be?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Simon took one hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch. It was one his mother brought him years ago for is 16th birthday and for getting a high mark on one of his assessments at school. “Soon, I think, but knowing my mum she would want to do a speech and stay back and talk to everyone. She might have a kitchen tea planned afterwards, I’m not sure, but Becky might not go to that. Why?”

“Well, I just think that if we’re celebrating someone’s life, we might as well do it in good company and with lots of alcohol,” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Isn’t Maya’s bar opened? The one that used to be the Jade Wolf, that she changed around for a Downworld bar? We could always head down there.” Apparently noticing the looks the others were sending him, a flush ghosted over his cheeks and he looked at them in confusion. “What?”

Jace snorted. “I think Magnus is finally starting to rub off on you, not counting all the glitter. But you’re right- I think that’s a great idea.”

“Do you think Becky would be alright blowing off the afternoon tea party for some day drinking with her vampire brother and his Shadowhunter friends?” Clary asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer. She had known the Lewis’s for a very long time after all.

Simon pretended to think. “You know; I think she’d love to. But we’ll probably have to wait for her to finish with this nonsense if that’s alright with you.”

Isabelle playfully swatted at his arm. “This isn’t nonsense. It’s your funeral.”

“Yes,” Simon said slowly. “But as you can see, I am very much alive.” He gestured at the funeral that was slowly beginning to stand as Raphael lowered the coffin into the ground, the garishly ugly flowers and the elaborately framed picture of his face going with it. “I don’t even know these people, and the ones I do know, I haven’t seen since I was a little kid. Becky didn’t even think it was worth wearing black to, and she _always_ wears the colour appropriate garb. It’s not a _real_ funeral, not really.”

“If you say so,” Jace said, looking somewhat relieved. "But tell your sister to hurry up. I need a god damn drink.”

Rolling his eyes, Simon shoved him, and he went rocking into Clary who squealed and leant into Jace’s arms as he tightened them around her. “It’s not even 12’o’clock yet,” he laughed. “But I agree. Maya has a special order of blood waiting for me the moment I walk through the door.”

Alec jerked his chin at Becky as she began to walk down the hill towards them, one hand on her beret to stop it from flying away. “I wouldn’t talk like that when your sister gets here. You don’t want to gross her out.”

“Don’t worry,” Simon said with a laugh. “She’s heard worse. And done worse, like attending my funeral while she sends funny faces to me standing a bit behind her.”


End file.
